Haze's Family
by Mr. Askanius Trick
Summary: So you thought that Shade and his children were the only ones, eh? Well think again, because every major city in the world has been taken into the Change. Our setting: Los Angeles. Is there any hope left in the City of Angels?


Haze's Family

By

Mr. Askanius Trick

Chapter 1

Gol

_Wow. Isn't that something?_

_What is it?_

_Shade won. New York is free._

_Do you know how he did it?_

_No, he was destroyed with the Change Field before he could send anything. Not that he would have. The little fool didn't even know about the other zones._

_So he's the only one besides Hong Kong?_

_That's right. But let's see if we can get Los Angeles in at least 3rd place shall we?_

_Alright then, what's our next mission?_

_I've detected another escapee that the Trackers have been chasing for days, he's somewhere near the Bank of America building._

_Easy enough. See you tomorrow._

_Don't be cocky; it'll be the end of you._

* * *

><p>A splash from a puddle triggered the team to drop into combat ready status. Zeta, Jacklyn, and Chrystal drew their swords and Edge extended his claws, his arms below his elbows turned to living steel. The two young women of the team, a buxom blonde and a mousy brunette, wielded their bastard swords with both hands, and the team's scrappy, Mediterranean tracker held his rapier and parrying dagger poised.<p>

"Zeta," Edge whispered but Zeta was already sniffing the air using his Change-talent to pick up the scent of the intruder.

"One human, hormones out the wazoo so he's got to be early teens. No creatures," the black haired boy whispered, "and a few dead rats. The human is just outside spying on us, second window to the right." Edge retracted his metal claws and returned his arms to human flesh. The nearly of age squad leader turned slowly to the window, and what he saw a dirty face with a mop of dark brown hanging just above a pair of eyes peering over the sill. The half covered eyes showed an all too familiar mixture of fear, desperation, hope, and weariness.

"They'll find you again if you stay out there. Come on in," said Edge quietly.

The boy then rose to his full height and walked to the back door of the Bank of America building and swung it open, remaining just under the doorframe. He was startlingly tall and muscular for having such a young face; he couldn't be any older than fourteen. He must have stood at 5' 11" and the veins on his arms bulged. Yet, even with this physique, he had a smooth grace to his step. The boy grinned.

"Well ya gat me," he said in a rather deep voice for his age. Edge was surprised that he could speak complete sentences. Usually newly discovered runaways could only talk in fragments.

"Do you have a name?" Edge inquired, careful to keep his tone as neutral and relaxed as possible. The boy looked up thoughtfully.

"My friend, she called—calls me Gol."

Edge glanced into the wild boy's eyes; they were an odd, transparent silvery-blue. An interesting compliment to Edge's own luminous icy blue orbs.

"Gol?" Crystal snorted none too kindly, flicking a few locks of her grain-gold hair over her supple left shoulder.

Edge shot her a sharp glance before returning his attention to Gol, hoping Crystal's snideness wouldn't frighten the boy. While Gol was unusually articulate, they had to assume he was still very feral. And, if his size was any indication to what his Change talent could be, very dangerous.

"Well Gol, my friends and I want to help you. We want to keep you safe." Edge took a couple slow steps toward Gol, who remained taking up the doorway. He also subtly signaled the rest of his team to remain where they were with a light fanning of his left fingers. Behind him the team relaxed their grips on their sword hilts but did not let their hands stray far from their weapons.

Gol's eyes lit up with hope of salvation, but his body remained rooted in place. His speech became strained, "But mah friend. She's still out there. Mel—I waz suppose ta find her."

This gave Edge pause. Haze hadn't mentioned a girl too. Edge cursed silently. Escapees with attachments were always trouble. Even Zeta was.

"Okay, but we've got to get you safe before we find her. Don't you want to be safe?" Edge needed to get this kid on board fast. They were losing moonlight.

"No," Gol stated, becoming stupidly obstinate, "Not wethout Mel."

"Listen Gol," Edge said, feeling his patience ebb away, "you can't find her by yourself. You need my friends and me to help you. You know all the monsters that are out there, don't you? You can't fight them alone. We can help you find Mel, but you need to come with us first."

Gol was about to protest again, but Zeta's sudden deep sniff stopped him. _Only Zeta could sniff urgently_, Edge mused in the face of impending peril.

"Large group of Myrmidons with Trackers coming from the North, five blocks off," Zeta spouted in a hushed whisper. Another two sniffs sent Zeta's eyes shooting as wide as they could get. "Ferrets in the basement right now. We need altitude, fast!"

Thankfully, Edge and his team had already thought out a contingency plan for being trapped in the US Bank building tonight.

"Everyone, east stairwell, form up tight, Jacklyn in front. Go!" Edge barked. Before he took off behind his team, he gave one last look to Gol. "Either come with us now or get left behind. I'm not sacrificing them for you."

And with that, Edge took off. As he caught up with Crystal at the rear of the team's precession, Edge took smug satisfaction in hearing heavy, clunking footsteps behind him that were still a good deal too light for a Myrmidon. The fact that they were even comparable, though, made Edge take extra note of Gol's potential power. After racing up seven flights of stairs the group of five teenage survivors came to rest in a large conference room with tinted windows. The room had a typical room dominating long table which Edge's team flipped on its side and pushed against the east wall which was entirely dark tinted windows overlooking Los Angeles. A screen on the north wall, the projector for said screen had been removed long ago. If Edge wasn't mistaken, it was Greta's team that had covered this floor. The west was a solid wall with two doors to the hallway. The seventh floor itself consisted entirely of similar conference spaces.

The four members of Edge's team sat in a tight circle, Crystal's back against the table, her head about a foot below the edge of the table. Gol sat several feet away from them also leaning against the table, knee hugged tightly to his chest. His head was only a few inches from the edge. Gol was continually squirming, doing his best to stay out of sight of the window as per Edge's instructions. Edge could tell the goliath of a boy was dying to return to the streets, to find this "Mel".

"Edge." The sharp call of his name drew his attention away from their new charge. It was Crystal, though he could have gathered that from the hand softly travelling unnecessarily high up his leg. Edge deflected her not-so-subtle reach with a practiced hand and an even more practiced unamused eyebrow raise.

"Yes?" he answered, electing to let slide her most recent inappropriate field conduct, along with her current conduct of similar nature, namely her other hand fiddling far too much with her uniform's third button (the other two she always kept undone against Edge's reprimanding). Zeta's eyes were finding a good many things in the room rather interesting, so long as they were at least twenty degrees away from Crystal.

"What about the girl?" Crystal whispered nonchalantly. By this time in the four teens' careers, even Jacklyn's big mousy brown eyes held only a moderate trace of sympathy and concern as the team waited for Edge's reply. Before he did, Edge glanced at Gol. The big boy was still clutching his knees and breathing normally, albeit a bit deep, showing no signs of hearing Crystal's hushed question.

"We've been out too long," Edge barely breathed out his answer. He couldn't risk Gol hearing. "If Zeta smells something on the way back, we'll investigate. We've got one; according to Haze, that's more than successful. We take our victories one at a time."

After enough years that final statement, perhaps the most echoed of Haze's Tenets, became less of an encouragement and more of a warning. A warning to that confidence can kill, and self-assurance is suicide. That suspicion is serenity and paranoia is protection. With Haze's double edged sermon drifting through their minds, Edge, Crystal, and Jacklyn laid down close to the table on their thin bedrolls while Zeta remained upright for first watch.

The dawn was cold; the coldest Gol had ever felt.

* * *

><p>AN: So, as much as I doubt very many people will ready this, as the following for Shade's Children is pretty far gone, I couldn't help but revamp this poor old thing. Astounding how I ever thought my writing in 2007-2008 was even worth a single damn. Anyway, for the few of you still faithful to good ole Shade's Children, I hope you enjoyed, and with any luck more is on the way.


End file.
